


The Final Problem (Fate Is In The Way) (Remastered Version)

by arnon_bleyheart



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, I Used James, It's One Person Though, James or Jim Moriarty, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnon_bleyheart/pseuds/arnon_bleyheart
Summary: Sherlock had to clench his fists to prevent himself from reaching out. Being that close to his soulmate was almost unbearable, the dance that they’re tangled in no longer satisfying. He’s aching for James, wanting to be close and never to be separated again. Instead he took a step back and closed his eyes.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty
Kudos: 89





	The Final Problem (Fate Is In The Way) (Remastered Version)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Final Problem (Fate Is In The Way)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608925) by [arnon_bleyheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnon_bleyheart/pseuds/arnon_bleyheart). 



> Hello! This is sort of canon, then it diverges on the rooftop scene. This is another one of me rewriting my old works. I hope you guys enjoy!

It’s not their first meeting, but even then Sherlock would have never seen it coming. The sharp burn that he felt on his right hand, right on his mark when he sees him. James Moriarty, his soulmate. Everything froze, for a fraction of a second, before the world spins again and everything was the same, John trembling in front of him, a bomb strapped to his chest, and Moriarty grinning from ear to ear. But Sherlock saw the slight tremble on his lips, and the way he kept his hands in his pocket. His mind supplied him with a thought he could not dismiss.

_ Not everything is the same, is it? _

Sherlock chastised himself in his mind for being so weak, for getting  _ distracted _ . He grasped at his composure, forcing himself to not shudder when Moriarty looked straight at him.

“I’ll burn the heart out of you.”

The ringing of the phone startled all of them, although John was the only one who physically flinched. His hand wavered on the gun, and Moriarty’s back straightened. He left just the way he came, mysteriously,  _ alluringly _ .Sherlock shook his head, offering a hand to a still shell-shocked John.

The closest he got to Moriarty after that was through Irene Adler. A mention of his soulmate’s name from the lady who tried to capture his heart and was captured by him instead. Just a mention of his name, but Sherlock couldn’t grab hold of his impulse fast enough. His mark burned,and his hand shot up to cover it. Again he cursed himself for his weak control. Ms. Adler did not give any indication of noticing, too shaken by her capture, but Mycroft eyed him, bright and curious. Sherlock kept his face carefully blank, and did not look at his brother. When he saved Ms.Adler later, he poured all his focus on her, and not the one who pulled all the strings.

When his phone chimed later, much much later, and the call came through, his heart raced. Moriarty was all over the news. He hoarded the telly that day, ignoring John’s confused stare.

He testified in court, giving the world a glimpse of James Moriarty as he understands him. He knew none of them understood, but it did not matter. His skin tingles with the proximity, his mark aching. He grits his teeth, provoked the judge and jury, uncaring of everyone else in the room but  _ him _ . He shares one truth to them, something that no one will be able to comprehend, except the both of them.

“I felt we had a special something.”

He glanced at his arch enemy then, saw the smile stretching wide on his face, and tried to keep his own from spreading. Moriarty’s eyes glimmered with amusement, and something that so closely resembles fondness his heart squeezed tight. He knows the same sentiment was shared in his eyes.

He picked up his violin that evening, after John bailed him from that little jail. The tune was melancholic, and just on the side of romantic. He refused to think about how it matched the tune of his thoughts.

The creak of the floor paused his hand, his ears perked to listen carefully to the silence. He knew who was waiting in it. He forced his hand to move, to produce more tunes, as he slipped on a mask of indifference and forced his mind to clear. He hated how unsteady his hand was, betraying his excitement.

His soulmate doesn’t knock (He can’t stop fixating on that word;  _ soulmate _ ). He saunters in instead, all casual, relaxed gestures. An air of casualness that they both did not feel surrounded him. Sherlock’s hand twitches at his side, and he reprimands himself for the loss of control. Moriarty( _ James,  _ his mind supplied unhelpfully) sat in his chair, reversing his usual dynamic with John. They traded barbs,  _ James  _ giving out hints and riddles. Sherlock dislikes riddles, and said as much.

Sherlock couldn’t help himself, his eyes trailing over James’ figure when the man stood and moved close to him. The moment felt intimate, but more importantly, it felt so  _ lacking _ . Sherlock wanted nothing more than to pull James flush against him, caress his face, place a kiss on his lips. He did nothing of that sort, choosing instead to let his nemesis finish his threat. He observed the dilation of the other man’s pupils, the way his breath seems to stutter minutely, and revels in how James seems to be as affected with their new connection as he is.

When James moved away, Sherlock almost reached out. His shoulder tensed up with the effort to keep himself still. James himself seemed tense. Sherlock wonders if his soulmate also felt the loss as acutely as him. He kept himself still even after he heard the door closed downstairs, trying to regain some semblance of self control. He decided to focus his attention elsewhere, instead of trying to catch a hint of his soulmate still lingering near him. His eyes fell on the carved apple and knife on the armchair. He kept the knife, cleaned carefully, at his bedside. The apple he ate, and he tried hard not to focus on the temporary feeling of unity he felt when he sunk his teeth in the soft sweet flesh.

Rubbing his mark became a habit, doing it whenever he felt agitated. John noticed, and made a comment about it.

“You’ve been scratching your mark for a while, Sherlock. Do you want me to take a look at it?”

Sherlock shook his head but offered no other explanation. Whatever John saw on his face stopped him form prodding further. None of them ever brought it up again, but Sherlock became more aware of his hands all the same.

When James Moriarty stole the headlines again, this time as Richard Brook, Sherlock couldn’t help the amusement that blooms inside him. Despite the inconvenience of the whole spectacle, he finds his soulmate’s humor entertaining. John glanced at him several times, his worry leaking out of him like a broken faucet. Sherlock does his best to ignore him.

As soon as he got into the cab, he knew who was on the other side of the screen. His mark throbbed. His heart rate picked up. He shivered when he heard his soulmate’s voice. The video was mocking yet elegant in a way only James Moriarty could do. Sherlock despises that he found even that endearing. When James dropped him in the middle of the street, Sherlock had to clench his fists to prevent himself from reaching out. Being that close to his soulmate was almost unbearable, the dance that they’re tangled in no longer satisfying. He’s aching for James, wanting to be close and never to be separated again. Instead he took a step back and closed his eyes.  _ The bond is getting stronger. _

When his phone chimed much much later, he knew who it was. He knows exactly what James is planning. He wonders if one of them will be able to predict what is about to happen. He went to the rooftop anyway. Making sure his plan is in place, taking all precaution. He knows his soulmate will be doing the same thing.

They locked eyes, heartbeat quickened, pupils dilated. James kept his face calm, and revealed his plan to Sherlock. Sherlock couldn’t help himself, his eyes trailing James’ lips as the criminal consultant described what he planned to happen. It was brilliant, just like him, and suddenly Sherlock lost his restraint. He lunged forward, pulling his soulmate flush against him, disarming the man and kicking the gun away before catching his lips in a bruising kiss. James tensed, clearly caught off guard, but his body soon relaxed against Sherlock’s own. Both their minds screaming right, this is right, this is soulmate.

James pulled away first, Sherlock’s hand still on his waist, keeping his close. Their mark glows red, signaling the last of their neurons aligning with each other, bond complete at last. They cannot be separated now. James stared at him with wide eyes, no doubt cataloging everything that happened that day. Sherlock almost flinched when James moved closer, lips right next to his ears.

“You ruined my plan, you know.”

Sherlock tugged him closer, noting the lack of resistance in James’ body. He can feel the curve of a smile growing on his lips,feeling complete, and knows that James’ expression mirrors his.

“I know.”


End file.
